The Adventure of the Faceless Fiancé
by irislim
Summary: Some people are just not born to be detectives. But, hey, maybe they can be matchmakers instead. A quick Hertfordshire AU.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: The Hertfordshire timeline is slightly muddled here. Collins proposes before the Netherfield Ball. Otherwise, everything's intact and ripe for a little bit of fun. Happy reading!_

* * *

"No, Mr. Collins. _No!_ No, no - I insist for the _twentieth_ time that I _refuse_ to marry you," Elizabeth huffed as she ran away, quite literally, from her belligerent cousin.

"Miss Elizabeth, your modesty, I am sure, insists that you - "

" _No_!" Elizabeth shouted, exasperated beyond reason. It was a pity that her gowns refused her easy movement. Oh how easily she would outrun the toad of a man if she were permitted to wear breeches as well! "Mr. Collins, I assure you there is _no_ modesty or strange ideals of propriety involved in my rejection!"

"Cousin Elizabeth, I must admit my admiration for - "

"No! Please! Take your admiration home with you for your beloved Lady Catherine. God knows she is _more_ than welcome to have my share." Elizabeth scaled the small hill with ease and gained at last a small advantage over her cousin. Her smile was proud.

"Miss Elizabeth! Please! If you would merely give me a moment, I could describe in detail my persistence and my - "

"I _refuse_!" Elizabeth bellowed, utterly annoyed, as she spun around to face him three yards away. She dropped her skirts angrily and crossed her arms. " _Mr. Collins_ , as a man of the cloth, you ought to be thoroughly ashamed. Please - do not think that I lie, nor prevaricate as to the reasons for my refusal. _You_ are a - _different_ man from what I envision my husband to be, and I shall under no duress consent to your proposal."

"But you are unlikely to ever receive another!" It seemed her point still did not sit well with him.

"If I do not," Elizabeth spoke as calmly as she could manage, "then I shall die a happy old maid - content to have refused the only proposal I've ever had the bad fortune to receive."

"Your reasons, fair cousin, have little ground. If you fool yourself into thinking that you will yet receive more offers then you have - "

"And who is to say that I have not?" Elizabeth blurted, irritated to the utmost. She lifted her hands helplessly before dropping them once more. " _Mr. Collins_ , I must _insist_ that you stop insulting the woman you think you are proposing to."

"Ah! You acknowledge my attentions at last!" Mr. Collins lifted a finger as he spoke, looking bald and pathetic to no end.

"I _do not_ ," Elizabeth repeated. She was fairly close to pulling out her own hair - or his. "I believe I _have_ received proposals and shall receive them again. I may even, if I should fancy it, _accept_ one of them some day. None of those details are relevant, however, to the fact that _I shall not marry you_."

The parson stopped short before his next inevitably bumbling statement. Elizabeth was _almost_ impressed.

"Of course!" Mr. Collins cried, before dashing all hope for his sanity. "You refuse my proposal because you already _have_ accepted another. Oh, you clever girl! Why did you not simply say so?"

"I - I am - "

"You reject me because you are unable to accept me - of course, of course," the man muttered to himself.

Elizabeth watched, eyes wide and nearly panicked. If the man had concocted his own lie - and believed in a misunderstanding of his own doing - surely, _she_ could not be blamed?

"Cousin Elizabeth!" His declaration of her name reassumed her frightened attention. "You are a virtuous lady, indeed."

Elizabeth nodded slightly, unsure if agreement would drive him closer or farther from another attempt at proposing.

"You have shown the utmost kindness by pretending that you _preferred_ not to choose me," he continued, to Elizabeth's bafflement, "when you are merely _unable_ to accept my generous offer."

Elizabeth knew not to laugh or to cry. "Sir - "

"Ah, I am a reasonable man, am I not? Your honor has been engaged - and therefore can no longer engage mine," he concluded all to himself. "I shall not grieve you by furthering my attentions."

Elizabeth's overwhelming thankfulness at his conclusion bid her not to speak.

The pudgy parson, unfortunately, mumbled on, "Your heart, though it be mine, is unfortunately already promised to another. It is therefore - "

"No!" Elizabeth could not resist then. Her cousin watched her with a face surprised. "No, sir - I must insist. My heart belongs - not to you."

 _That_ was a lie she could not bear to have him believe!

"There is no reason for shame, my dear!" He had the nerve to proclaim. "It is but natural that one is drawn towards family. For as my most revered patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh has said, cousins are most suited to each other in temperament and position. There are fewer matches that could rival the perfection of - "

"There is _no_ perfection to be discussed in our particular circumstance, sir!" Elizabeth rushed to correct him. Her patience wore as thin as first ice. Her breath ran short in her anger as her arms twisted imposingly before her. "My heart has _never_ , nor will _ever,_ belong to you, sir."

"Loyalty suits you well, my fair cousin." The incorrigible parson would not stop his talking and bowing. "I find it difficult to believe, however, that both your heart and your honor have truly been engaged. Your mother _herself_ had assured me of your availability."

"My mother - " Elizabeth struggled not to lose her temper. "My mother - knows little of my affairs."

"It is true, then, that you have offered your heart to another?" Mr. Collins looked as if he teetered on the edge of uncovered scandal. Elizabeth fretted more deeply than she had in years.

What _would_ the man do if she were to profess a secret engagement, however fictitious said engagement might be?

"I - I am not at liberty to say," Elizabeth muttered vaguely, praying direly in her heart that God would have his servant disappear posthaste.

"Ah! Then you are a woman engaged!" His exclamation came with a most welcome retreat. "I _must_ beg your pardon, fair cousin, for imposing upon you so. Good day. We shall have opportunities aplenty to meet each other in company."

As Mr. Collin's heavy form scurried ungracefully towards Longbourn, Elizabeth's intense relief forbid her to regret any misunderstanding their conversation might have brought about.

If the silly man insisted upon believing what he did - then, surely, she had little cause to complain. His good opinion she would never need!

* * *

 _A/N: I promise I'm not randomly starting stories! I just need to buy more time to edit the highly complex latter chapters of both "Oh Brother" and "Real." The characters can be so stubborn once familiarity breeds contempt ;) I hope you enjoy this one! It's only going to have five short chapters :)_


	2. Chapter 2

"Cousin Elizabeth, if I may, I would very much wish to pay my respects to your fiancé tonight. As heir to Longbourn, it is but right for me to observe my fair cousins' future husbands. In fact, it is my most Christian duty to do so. Would you care to introduce us at the ball?"

The sudden stares Jane, Kitty, and Lydia sent her way made Elizabeth wish their carriage were five times larger than it was. Thank goodness Mama remained dazed by the window, distracted like a child by Netherfield's lights! Papa's snores indicated also that he would not remember this most peculiar topic.

"I - I do not wish to," Elizabeth muttered. She fleetingly wondered if unraveling her sisters' bewilderment would be a worthy enough cause to remove her sole defense against her persistent suitor. One look at said bumbling suitor quickly silenced the thought. "He would not be - present."

"Oh, surely all of Hertfordshire would attend tonight?" Mr. Collins continued his nearly one-man conversation. "With your limited dowry and finite appeal, one must surely assume that he resides locally. Men of the world hardly settle for what one finds easily in one's own neighborhood."

Elizabeth's clenched fists and growing ferocity seemed to elude him still.

"Pray, Cousin Elizabeth, do tell - "

"Yes, Lizzy, _do_ tell!" Lydia's squeals interrupted their monotonous relative. "I did not know you were enga - "

"Hush, Lydia!" Elizabeth cried, worried that Mama's momentary distraction would not remain momentary. "I have not said that I were - _officially_ betrothed."

For how else could she explain the obvious absence of a fiancé? It was by sheer luck that Mr. Collins deigned the cause of her rejection too shameful to repeat to her mother.

"You are not?" Mr. Collins - the ridiculous man - had to hear, of course, just that.

"I - not in - public," Elizabeth scrambled.

"A _secret_ betrothal!" Kitty and Lydia exclaimed together.

"Hush!" Elizabeth cried again as the young ones giggled. Papa had begun to stir - and Mama to notice!

"I think it all very romantic that Lizzy is in love with someone at the ball." Kitty's voice softened into dreamy tones.

There was something in her sister's face, perhaps the particularly angle of her smile, that compelled Elizabeth to let her be.

* * *

"Please, sir, madame, I am Mr. Collins of Hertfordshire, honored parson to the _great_ Lady Catherine de Bourgh - as well as a cousin to the local Bennets. If you would be so kind, sir, madame, may I please have the honor of knowing the rash young man to have achieved an understanding with my fair cousin Elizabeth? You see, I was but proposing to her yesterday morning when she - "

Elizabeth sighed as she turned away, no longer able to stomach yet another round of Mr. Collin's ridiculous behavior. It was fortunate, very much so, that his accosted victims proved so far to be relatives of the family - and therefore willing to understand any belated explanation she offered once the odious parson walked away.

"Ah, Mr. Bingley!" Mr. Collins' subsequent address had Elizabeth jumping on her toes. Surely, their cousin did not meant to - "How fairs your courtship with my fair cousin Jane? I must admit I was rather disappointed to learn that the prettiest of the girls had already been spoken for."

Elizabeth turned quickly at his words, anxious to quell any damage on its way towards becoming irreparable. Mr. Bingley replied, however, before she could approach the two men, "Miss Bennet and I, I'm afraid, have yet to possess the opportunity to clarify any - attachment between us."

She walked faster.

"While I cannot speak for her," Mr. Bingley went on, "I would gladly declare my intentions to any members of her family. Miss Bennet is - the most beguiling woman I have had the opportunity to meet."

Elizabeth stopped short, hearing every word as crisply as if the men spoke on a misty dawn rather than in a crowded ballroom.

"One ought not to profess intentions they do not possess, you see," Mr. Collins, again, refused to stop. "If my fair Cousin Jane has yet to achieve an understanding with your person, I would much prefer that she be granted the liberty to choose! One cannot be overly confident that one's suit be accepted without clear enunciation of intent."

Overly confident indeed! Elizabeth could almost cuff him for his audacity.

"I dare not speak for Jane," said Mr. Bingley, head held high, "but my heart shall not be swayed."

Elizabeth smiled her first smile in what promised to be a most eventful evening.

Mr. Collins, of course, had to bludgeon the fact. His voice rang unfortunately loud and clear, "I myself shall stand just as resolutely in my pursuit of Miss Elizabeth!"

* * *

The sight of the punch bowl, while colorful, yielded disproportionate result in flavor - and Darcy nearly spat the liquid right upon the ballroom floor. The thought of dancing or conversing with the silly members of this particular country crowd was tedious to the core. He could barely wait to hie himself to his bedroom.

Was it truly necessary for all balls to begin and end so late? Surely, such hours could not prove beneficial to one's health.

"I myself shall stand just as resolutely in my pursuit of Miss Elizabeth!"

The most unexpected declaration reached his ears - and he quickly spun around to trace its origin.

His eyes took mere seconds to locate the pompous parson gloating at his friend and host. Bingley, darn him, _smiled_ at the parson - clearly offering highly undue encouragement.

Darcy could nearly hit the odious man himself - then perhaps Bingley thereafter.

"I'd proposed to her yesterday, you see," Collins' words emerged into his consciousness as Darcy maneuvered himself towards the corner the Bennets' bloody cousin currently occupied. Bingley had disappeared - and the stout man was muttering to the only two ladies within close proximity to his pudgy person, both clearly lonely matrons tonight. "The woman is quite overly liberal, you must understand. Mr. Bennet has done _nothing_ to temper her character. So wild and impertinent - I shall have to tame her plenty."

Darcy's clenched fists neared the point of pain. He trudged onwards.

"Her mother had been ever so kind as to provide us ample privacy. As a man of the cloth, I could hardly be expected to say anything _improper_ , however. You see, it was the lady herself who - "

"Oomph!" Darcy found himself tripping over a pair of highly distracted dancers. The lady he managed to avoid, the man unfortunately not - and he and what proved to be Sir William Lucas tumbled across the floor as ungracefully as a pair of sparring cats.

"I'm sorry, sir, so _very_ sorry!" The portly man clearly had no strength to restore himself to his feet.

Darcy, groaning, collected himself until he stood - and lended a reluctant hand to aid the aging knight.

"I thank you, Mr. Darcy - perhaps you are not as harsh as folks believe around here." Sir William was chuckling the moment he stood upright, and Darcy frowned further. "You scowl, sir, but prove yourself quite the gentleman."

Darcy bowed before backing away. "I apologize for the interruption."

"No, no, sir - it is no trouble. If I had but noticed where we were - "

Darcy left with a quick greeting, and found himself sick to the stomach when he found the all-important corner empty - and Elizabeth and Collins on the dance floor.

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you for all the response to the first chapter! I hope this one keeps up the fun too :)_


	3. Chapter 3

"Mr. Darcy, have you heard? Why, the Bennets must be so poor as to throw sense entirely out the window!" Miss Bingley's malicious chuckle chilled him to the bones. The swishing of her skirts as she approached kindled a keen desire within him to flee as far as he could. "To think their mother finds herself utterly ecstatic at the prospect of her daughter marrying - regardless of the person to whom she is betrothed!"

Darcy barely cleared his throat enough to speak, "I hardly consider your brother a bad catch."

"Oh, you speak of _Jane_ ," Miss Bingley spat the name as if she herself were a princess of all of Europe speaking of a lowly servant. "Yes, Mrs. Bennet does talk of her aplenty."

Darcy sighed under his breath - assuring himself of a fact that he was uncertain to be true.

"But, you see, it is _Eliza_ of whom I'm speaking. Why, people say her fiancé is in this very room tonight!"

The tightness in his throat threatened to choke life itself out of him.

"Fiancé?" He found himself unable to hear his own voice.

"Mr. Collins certainly makes no secret of the fact - walking around as he is speaking all about it." Caroline Bingley, when unoccupied with ruining his life, served as a decent informant.

"I see." He could not spur himself to say more.

Surely, Elizabeth could not be foolish enough to consider - nay, _accept_ such a man? Unbidden pictures of Elizabeth at Rosings - tied to that toad of a parson - as she cowered before Aunt Catherine emerged in his mind.

The idea of Elizabeth cowering before any human being sounded preposterous - but the facts he'd heard tonight had begun to make him wonder if he truly knew the lady at all. His face frowned in disbelief even as his eyes roamed the room.

It took only half a minute to find someone who may unravel the mystery further - or, at least, to quench his worries.

"Excuse me, Miss Bingley," he spoke just as the woman opened her mouth again, "I'm afraid I have a dance partner to seek."

* * *

"Miss Lucas," he said - for the third time in the last six measures of music.

His dance partner, unsurprisingly, raised a brow in query. "I assure you, sir, that there is no requirement for us to converse."

Darcy nodded mutely, unable to chart his emotions into words once more.

How _does_ one manage to ask things tactfully and discretely? His life in London's high society had done its due in exhibiting what flagrant behavior proved to be. Subtle inquisition - he had never encountered yet.

"Is your friend happy?" He spoke quickly at the realization that the dance was almost halfway done.

"My friend?"

He struggled with his increasingly warming chest as he glanced over at Elizabeth - a mere two partners down.

"You mean Elizabeth?" Miss Lucas laughed.

"Yes." His answer was low, compensating for Miss Lucas's lack of control.

"I suppose she is." The lady smiled as she glanced her own way down the line. Darcy barely breathed as he attempted to maintain his own eyes upon the wall. It would not do to display his feelings so blatantly - it would not do at all!

"Her partner, it seems, pleases her better than her previous one." Miss Lucas did not stop speaking.

Unable to resist, Darcy glanced at the view of a blooming Elizabeth smiling and talking as she danced with her partner - a golden-haired, blue-eyed young man who appeared perfectly at ease in Hertfordshire. The pensive look she had sported upon first entrance had melted away into a brilliant smile and sparkling eyes.

Darcy wondered which thought disturbed him more - that she was betrothed to the horrid Mr. Collins, or that she flirted still with other men despite her own affianced state. The gloom of jealousy slowly swallowing his heart tonight indicated that _both_ scenarios were equally painful.

"Is it he?" Darcy asked when the music neared its end.

"Is he what?" Miss Lucas asked before their hands joined one last time.

"Her fiancé." The words sounded evil applied to any man but himself.

"Whose?"

The obligatory applause surrounded them at the dance's conclusion, but neither partners clapped.

"Her partner this dance. Is he - " Darcy swallowed away the rest of his words. He was fast losing his opportunity to glean from his informant, and he was most resolute in his decision not to ask her for another dance again.

His heavy tongue, however, simply refused to cooperate.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Darcy?" Miss Lucas' face, however plain, was kind and sincere at the least.

Darcy watched her carefully, hesitant.

"What ails you, sir?"

He inhaled, and then sighed, before replying, "I mourn the fact that women often exercise little discernment in their choice of husbands."

"You imply, sir, that women have the choice at all."

The answer surprised him - and his eyes refocused on Miss Lucas's intelligent face.

She smiled politely. "Women may wish to discern all we want - but we rely entirely on the fact that men would choose to ask."

* * *

It was unfortunate, most unfortunate indeed, that his mindless meandering after such mystifying words caused him to stumble into the creature he currently most disdained.

"Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire!" The odious parson cried before suddenly standing as tall as his limited stature allowed him to. "I am _most_ honored!"

Darcy could not hide his glare, nor the brewing storm in his heart.

"Whatever could you be or want?" Pride, mingled with pain, overtook his manners.

"Oh, you simply _must_ pardon my clumsiness. You see, I am a man confused, as seems your holy highness may be. Of course, I am not one to say that you are _holy_ , though am most certain that the nephew of my lofty patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh _must_ indeed be a man devout. I need no evidence of the fact to see that - "

"Mr. Collins," Darcy growled, hands twitching, "is there _anything_ that I could help you with?"

"Oh, yes! You are most helpful, sir. You see, I had the recent honor to propose marriage to my cousin Elizabeth, who most indelicately - however kindly - informed me that she was otherwise taken. You frown, sir, because, you see, I am just as confused as you. My patroness, the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh had just said that my fair cousins must be mostly available and unwanted - and that I ought to mend family ties by marrying one of them, preferably whoever's age would most suit. She believes - that is, Lady Catherine - that marriage between cousins is most preferable for its ability to unite families, to preserve wealth, to - "

"Mr. Collins!" Darcy's mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion nearly caused him to stumble in the presence of such a barrage of conversation. He sighed. "Is there anything _pressing_ that I may help you with? I would otherwise much prefer to return to my solitude."

"Ah! Yes! Of course! Pardon my neglect. You see, my cousin Elizabeth has acknowledged that her _fiancé_ shall be present in the ball tonight. It has been most difficult, however, in locating his person. I have not a name, you see, as my cousin has been overly coy in not stating his identity. I, in fact, have begun to doubt that this man existed at all! Hertfordshire is no large town, sir, and I - "

"She is not engaged to _you_?" The question flew out by its own will, brimming of hope and confusion.

"Sir?"

"Elizabeth." Darcy nearly grabbed the parson by the collar. "You say you proposed - but that she is not engaged to _you_."

"No, sir. You see, Mr. Darcy - nephew to my great patroness - she _specifically_ said that she - "

"She said she's engaged?"

"Well, you see, sir, her particular words had been that her heart belongs not to _me_. Whomever it may belong to is a constant mystery that even a man of my wisdom and perception cannot decipher. You see, she has said that - "

"She rejected you," Darcy continued, unfettered.

The parson squirmed slightly. "I - I believe her intent was to accept. It was merely that her honor was already engaged to - "

"Excuse me, Mr. Collins."

Darcy sprung after the headstrong figure marching out into the balcony, deserting her cousin in his wake.

* * *

 _A/N: Here goes a determined Darcy! I hope you enjoyed this chapter :) Writing this story is a break for me from the gloom and doom of "Switched" :)_


	4. Chapter 4

"Miss Elizabeth!"

She turned, surprised, at the clearly frantic voice during the dullest part of the ball - a part she had been hoping to escape.

"Mr. Darcy?" Her genuine surprise nearly had her forgetting any disdain she'd previously felt for the man. Mr. Wickham's lies had been obvious, but Mr. Darcy's insult to her vanity was still far from forgiven.

"Miss Elizabeth," he repeated when nearing her at last. The sparse population of the balcony at least ensured safety from both scandal and gossip. "I - I hear I am to congratulate you."

Once again, he had chosen the least seemly thing to say out of all possibilities in the universe - and she promptly huffed and turned away.

"Miss Elizabeth," he pressed.

"I have no need of your mocking, sir." Her curious smile had disappeared completely.

"I intend no mocking."

"Oh, there must be _no reason_ for me to doubt your humility."

"Madame?"

"Again, I need not your pretenses, sir."

"I hold no pretense!"

"How _dare_ you lie so bold-faced, sir!"

"Lie? Why would I ever - "

"Is it not enough that I must suffer Mr. Collins' ridicule?" She spun around then, heart _actually_ aching. She blinked for a moment before sighing. "I had thought you better, sir."

The silence greeting her compelled her to look up, if only for a moment.

"He dares ridicule _you_?" The serious look on Mr. Darcy's face almost frightened her. "I shall have Aunt Catherine dismiss him the first hour tomorrow morning."

"Oh." What else was Elizabeth to say, after all?

She ventured to speak again only after Mr. Darcy stopped panting. "It would be rather unkind of me to rob him of his living, sir."

He turned to look at her, eyes clearly searching. She put great effort into not looking away.

"Despite what Mr. Wickham may say, I would like to believe my assessment of your arrogance need not associate you with dishonesty as well."

He started slightly after her declaration, and she wondered if she had said too much.

He did not speak until his wandering feet nearly led him indoors once more. Framed by the door's ornate arches, he stopped, turned around, and said softly, "I thank you for your perception, madame."

"It is no trouble."

"I came to congratulate you on your engagement. I see now that I ought to be encouraging another, luckier man. I hope you have a wonderful evening."

Then all quite suddenly, the enigmatic man was gone.

* * *

His mysterious words did not quite truly settle in until a moment later. Her reactions - once they did - were quite immediate.

"Mr. Darcy!" She followed after him quickly, sparing only a moment in the confounded ballroom before tracing his form towards the library. "Mr. Darcy!"

He did not hear her either time, and she found herself quite compelled to chase him all the way into the library - only then dropping the hems she had raised to nearly unladylike heights. He stood by the fire, frowning. She could nearly slap herself and him and Mr. Collins all at once.

"Mr. Darcy," she repeated, voice amplified at last by their solitude.

He started as if genuinely surprised - and looked her way with pained, soulful eyes. The worry on his face was too keen for explanation.

"Miss Elizabeth," he spoke lowly yet thinly, little strength in his voice, "I wonder if I may presume that you arrive here to see me."

She rolled her eyes immediately, utterly unable to resist. "Sir, you tease."

"I do not, I'm afraid." He frowned again. "While I am entirely thankful for your discernment regarding George Wickham's character, I cannot deny that the arrogance you have attributed to me is true."

She had questioned her own sanity - running along after him the way she did simply to clear up a misunderstanding. Right now, she questioned his.

"I fail to understand, sir."

"Despite clearly feeling the deepest of love, I have allowed my actions only to insult and belittle you. Miss Bingley's jealousy speaks of my affection - her insults of my pained uncertainty."

"Mr. Darcy, I - "

"Forgive me, Elizabeth." He looked straight at her, then drew closer. She froze where she stood, mere steps from the door. "Forgive me for allowing my arrogance, selfishness, and pride to picture myself to be far more deserving of your affections than I have ever been. Forgive me for the indignation in my heart at the news of your accepting another - for surely, you command the hearts of many men more deserving than I."

"Mr. Darcy! I cannot have you believe - "

"I do not know who your betrothed is, Elizabeth." He stopped before her, toes inches from hers. His eyes entranced her beyond what is acceptable. "I feebly rejoice at the fact that he is not my aunt's fool of a parson. I wish you every happiness from the depths of my being - though my soul suffers knowing that _that_ happiness would not be found with me. The man who has won your hand has won entrance to heaven itself. I cannot fault another for acting before I do."

"Mr. Darcy!" Her protest was keen, but limp. Her hands and feet refused to obey her at all. "Sir, you _must_ let me explain."

He withdrew, eyes lowering. "I would rather not hear your reasons for accepting another man. Clear as I may be regarding my own faults, I know not if I can bear to hear your praises for another man who is clearly better than I."

"Mr. Darcy!"

"Miss Elizabeth - forgive the liberties I have taken. Please pardon them as you would a dying man's last wishes. I dare not - "

"Mr. Darcy!" Amusement, relief, confusion, warmth, joy, and a hint of exasperation coursed through her veins. He slowly met her eyes again. She smiled. "Sir, you are rambling."

He seemed not to hear her until another moment passed. His eyes blinked then of recognition.

"Miss Elizabeth," he rushed to say, "perhaps even in my apologies, I stumble. It is no wonder that you have accepted another. Who am I to think that one as wonderful as you would seek to unify yourself with a man like me? It is foolishness of the - "

"I have accepted no one!" She cried, nearly stomping her foot. The wonder she felt in her heart quickly chased away any predecessors of embarrassment or fear. She smiled again. "Do you not see, sir, that you are rambling about something entirely untrue?"

"Untrue?"

The sharp and witty man she had come to observe, it seemed, did not exist tonight.

"Mr. Darcy - I am _not_ engaged to any man, and I apologize for any presumptions my foolish cousin may have discussed publicly tonight. I had attempted so sorely to reject him, but he simply _refused_ to accept that I was rejecting _him_." She pressed her hands together, slightly uneasy. "I - I apologize for the misunderstanding, sir, for I, by allowing it to exist, bear the brunt of the blame for its propagation."

He did not speak, only blinked.

She watched him, hesitant and fascinated, before noticing the suddenly minute distance between them. He was leaning closer, lower. She, without thought, was doing the same.

"Mr. Darcy?" She heard herself whisper when only an inch separated their faces.

He stopped his movement, though hovered still.

"Elizabeth?"

"I apologize most dearly for the misunderstanding. Presumptions are a horrible lot."

He moved his head slightly as if in a nod.

She inhaled deeply before continuing, "But, just this once, may I presume what we are about to do?"

* * *

 _A/N: I'm sorry for the delay in updates! I hope uploading chapters to two stories will make up for things. Thank you for waiting. I hope you liked this chapter and all its awkward glory :)_


	5. Chapter 5

"Cousin Elizabeth!"

The loud cry, accompanied by an equally loud bang as the library door flung open, pulled him back instantly - unable to deliver his reply. He woke from his heavenly reverie, suddenly sent crashing back down to earth. Elizabeth, in all her tantalizing beauty, still stood before him - and he wondered if he ought to back more fully away.

"Mr. Darcy! Why, this is a most astounding discovery. You, sir, a man engaged to be married! Surely, your solitary company is chaperoned? It does you ill, sir, to be found so thoroughly alone!" Mr. Collins' unwelcome face bore an expression of pure disgust.

Darcy trained his steely eyes upon the portly parson, while his person stood hovering a yard from Elizabeth, unable to draw closer nor farther.

"Why indeed would two people, each engaged to another, _dally_ about in the library?" Mr. Collins was aghast, his face no less scandalized than any London matron would be.

"Pray, take heed of what you say, Mr. Collins." Darcy growled. "You speak of things you do not know of."

"You are engaged, sir, to your cousin!" The brute prattled on. A small crowd began to gather behind him, whispers barely hushed. "The disapproval of the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh - "

"Is something I care little over," Darcy interrupted, then sighed. How he had managed to find himself alone with Elizabeth, her eyes and lips responsive to his every reply, he did not know. He _did_ know, however, how much he liked their shared situation - and was very much ready to fight anyone who dared disturb it. "Your presumptions, Mr. Collins, are entirely untrue. I am not engaged. There has, perhaps, been a misunderstanding."

"Oh, but surely Miss de Bourgh would digress! Lady Catherine herself has informed me, out of her overflowing generosity, that your cousin Miss de Bourgh and your honorable person have been betrothed from your very births! There is little misunderstanding possible with such thoroughly thoughtful arrangements. You see - "

"Mr. Collins," Darcy repeated, voice and face darker with each passing moment. The crowd behind the parson had unfortunately grown into quite a small multitude. Darcy shuddered in his heart for Elizabeth's sake. He cleared his own throat with great volume and deliberation. "I must insist, Mr. Collins, that you not repeat such a gross untruth. I am not engaged and do not _dally_ in my friends' libraries with engaged women."

"But Cousin Elizabeth has informed me that she - "

"Mr. Collins!" It was Elizabeth's turn to shout. She faced her cousin, though remained standing, thankfully, by Darcy's side. "Whatever it may be you choose to imply about my person - let it not taint Mr. Darcy's name. He has been every bit the gentleman."

"Gentleman?" The word sounded foreign in the subservient parson's voice. "But what sort of gentleman, pray you, would choose to indulge in your solitary company when you are so _clearly_ promised to another?"

Her eyes flew quite high before rolling back down. Her charade, however well-meant, had clearly meant its conclusion at last. "Mr. Collins, I am _not_ engaged to another."

"But you had promised, fair cousin, in your most courteous rejection of my marriage proposal that you - " For the very first time, Mr. Collins stopped _himself_. His eyes widened, mouth gaped. His entire countenance mirrored a dim-witted, trapped animal slowly discovering its true location. "Miss Elizabeth! For shame! You have allowed yourself to become engaged to a man so _definitely_ betrothed to another. Your entire engagement is a _lie_!"

"I - I would not - " Elizabeth's panic showed quickly on her face - and Darcy could not help but step in.

"Whatever engagement I may have undertaken, Mr. Collins, is most distinctly _not_ to my cousin Anne. I am afraid the misunderstanding exists over _that_ engagement - which is most clearly a lie."

"But, sir, Lady Catherine herself - "

"Does not know the affairs of her nephew."

"I - you - how _could_ you, sir! I must hie myself to Rosings Park this very _instant_ to inform Lady Catherine of such grave denial of her _clear_ demands."

"Please, Mr. Collins," Elizabeth's voice emerged again, "let not it be said that your cousin's family detains you from such a _clear_ duty you possess."

"Yes, yes, of course. I see, Cousin Elizabeth, that there is hope for you yet."

Darcy nearly lunged towards the fool, if it were not for Elizabeth's small hand on his arm.

"I wish you a safe journey, Mr. Collins." Elizabeth's serenity impressed him.

"Yes, yes, of course."

Darcy did not realize he held his breath at all - until the crowd dissipated at last.

* * *

It took many moments - perhaps even an entire half hour - before she calmed herself sufficiently to speak.

Confident when faced with adversity, she hung her head when faced with shame.

"I must apologize, Mr. Darcy, for inadvertently involving you in such a ridiculous farce." Her hands remained pressed against her waist, her eyes on the floor. "I must imagine Hertfordshire holding no charm for you, sir."

He groaned from his side of the room, his body pressed against the wall. The crowds, fascinated equally by a blushing Elizabeth and huffing Mr. Collins, had at last decided to pursue the latter rather than that linger at the glaring former attraction.

She was most thankful, indeed.

"I fault you not, Miss Elizabeth," said her companion, voice low. His faraway gaze past the window spurred her to wonder at the object of his musings. Was he regretting their discovery, fearing their consequences? Was he gazing at a particular other lady, wondering how he had ruined his chances by Elizabeth's entrance into the library?

Her last thought nearly sprung tears into her eyes.

She had never admired Mr. Darcy before tonight's strange events. She had thought of him, often, if she had to admit - but those thoughts seldom carried kind nor affectionate sentiments. His speech tonight, before her cousin's unceremonious interruption, had molded her heart otherwise.

"I apologize, sir, for my cousin's outlandish presumptions." Every word belabored her. She licked her lips, then swallowed. "I promise I shall do everything in my power to dissuade him of his perceived notions. His presumptions that I am engaged at all - much more to _you_ , sir - I - I cannot imagine the humiliation you must feel! I myself - I myself cower in embarrassment. I - "

She stopped short, throat tight and eyes watery. The now-open library door offered them little privacy, but the thought that all witnesses of their 'discovery' had now fled a scene they deemed uninteresting and moved on to gossip of said scene amidst the ballroom crowd terrified her to no end.

"There is no humiliation, Elizabeth, in being engaged to you," came his answer, spoken with depth and warmth and apparent sincerity.

She looked up quickly, heart awake. Was he toying with her? Was he mocking her utter ruin?

He - the man with the _actual_ fiancée - may share such compliments all he wished, for there would be little consequence for him.

Her own life was another matter.

"My mother would be barging in any instant, sir - demanding a marriage that cannot occur. Pray, do not mock me." She looked askance, blinking all the while. "My father, if he attends her, may be difficult to reckon with as well. For your peace, flee, now."

He did not reply, and she dared not look up.

Then his voice was by her ear all of a sudden. Her entire being lit as if on fire. "I jest not, Elizabeth. Perhaps chance has dealt us a much kinder card than we may have sought for ourselves."

"I cannot claim kindness for destructing your honor, sir. I promise to clear - "

"I do not need you to."

"My cousin is a fool - "

"But Providence is not."

"I - I refuse to entrap you, sir."

"But you already have."

* * *

Her face whipped up instantly to his, and there they stood, panting - brow to brow, nose to nose, and almost lips to lips. Her eyes searched his, curious and prying. He met her gaze an open book. He was hers, now and forever.

"I don't understand," she whispered. He knew, rejoiced, even, that anyone who would chance upon the library at this moment would readily declare them irrevocably engaged.

"You enchant without trying, engage without thought, entrance without effort or force. You capture my heart so thoroughly that your rejection would render me incapable of ever loving another." Prose had never been his forte, until tonight. He heard her heart, and his, echoing between their chests. His eyes remained fixed on her ever-lovely ones, their depths unfathomable - until tonight. "You intend to clear my honor, but I have _every_ desire to engage yours."

Her eyes blinked twice, dewy and young. The challenge he had so often seen in them before this destined evening had been wholly replaced by wonder and surprise.

"I cannot speak for you, Miss Elizabeth." He softened his tones, still refusing to pull away. "But I, for my own sake, am decidedly thankful that Mr. Collins misunderstood."

"You would have him believe me engaged?" The happier, softer lilt had returned - and he loved her all the more for it.

"I see no problem in this impermeable plan."

She laughed, almost kissing him from the movement. His chest, and other parts, tightened in response.

"My father might deem your plan faulty, sir." She smiled now, shadows of her odious cousin gone.

He smiled too. "And have you a better solution?"

"Perhaps." She paused, as if thinking. Her eyes smiled, danced. "Would you, Mr. Darcy, be kind enough to call at Longbourn tomorrow morning?"

"Shall I bring the settlement papers? I can muster an attempt, but I doubt, even with my lawyer's speed, that we could - "

"To ask for a courtship, sir!" She laughed wholeheartedly now, face bright and shoulders moving. She calmed slightly before adding, "Contrary to Mr. Collins' belief, to have one's heart belonging to another - need not always require a context of betrothal."

Her words carved sprightly rivers through every desert cliff in his heart.

"I shall do as you say, madame, lest I be considered as deaf as your other suitors."

"One cannot be a suitor when the lady does not even consider one's actions a suit."

"And me?"

She smiled again - perfect and glad - before allowing him to lift her hand to his lips. "I shall be very glad to refer to you thus."

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you liked this short story. It was originally supposed to be a one-shot. Then it kept outgrowing itself. I hope you have a smile on your face because of this! Thank you for reading :)_


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